


Honey dripping from your lips

by Toomanyfandoms99



Series: (No Longer A) Secret Marriage [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Secret Marriage, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:17:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: “Wanna see?”Dean didn’t need more of a prompt than that.  He understood, like always.  A smile reached his face easily.  “Of course.”  His eyes sparkled with excitement.  “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”





	Honey dripping from your lips

**Author's Note:**

> The title was taken from the remix version of “Beautiful” by Bazzi and Camila Cabello, also indicated with ellipsis. Enjoy!

After the Hell’s rift business was over, Dean and Castiel Winchester were happy again. 

Despite John’s looming presence, Dean didn’t let it bother him. His afterlife was long and eternal; Dean didn’t want to waste any more of it ruminating on negativity.

That was Cas always said, anyway: “Heaven is not a place for negative thoughts.”

Dean freaked everyone out with his happiness, he could tell. Mary, Bobby, Ellen, Jody, and Donna sent him strange looks whenever he smiled easy or seemed especially carefree.

There were so used to his “resting bitch face” — as Claire once said — that they forgot Dean could be happy. He could be free of worry and free of stress and free of his own internal struggles. Even when Dean had Cas as his constant, there was always something else to focus on, something else to do, something to stop or kill or hunt. There had been short intervals where Dean was content, but he was a worrywart at heart.

Until now.

He was in Heaven and allowed to do whatever he wished for eternity. And Dean had his husband by his side through everything. So they could stare all they wanted. Dean was truly at peace, and he wouldn’t apologize for that.

————

Castiel created a garden for himself.

Ever since his time in a psychiatric ward, he’d been obsessed with nature. Being an angel meant having a special relationship with nature, being a part of it in a way he couldn’t explain. He used to be the sky, the sun, the clouds, the lightning, the rain, the winds, the trees, the flowers, the storm. 

But having his mind turned inside out and played with resulted in differences in his consciousness. 

How could it not?

When Cas didn’t know which way was up or down, he focused on nature, on flowers and grass and trees he could see outside his confines. He would peek out his tiny barred window and observe nature for hours without moving a muscle. Everything else — Dean and Sam and even Meg — were difficult to think about. They brought layers upon layers of pain into his consciousness, and Cas would rather suppress his guilt than feel it every second of every day.

He was fascinated with nature, especially the types of flowers he could see from his window. And with a fascination with flowers comes a fascination with bees.

Castiel’s mind latched onto the topic with an insurmountable strength, and he still recalled random bee facts he researched long ago to this day. Cas didn’t know why his plagued mind had chosen bees as his obsession, but Cas supposed everyone had their issues.

Anyhow, Castiel decided to create a garden in the ample backyard space between the cabin and the lake that composed his shared Heaven with Dean. Growing plants was incredibly easy in Heaven, since nothing could go horribly wrong. Cas just had to imagine the seeds he wanted, plant them in the ground, water them every morning, and the chosen seeds would grow within days.

Castiel began with a patch of forget-me-nots. The delicate blue flowers were something that Dean reacted well to once. Cas used to gift Dean different flowers that symbolized love, and Dean had the most positive response to forget-me-nots. 

The patch of his pretty baby blue flowers had grown well in the past week. Dean had not yet visited the area Cas had claimed as his garden; Cas wanted to surprise him with his first plant. It was time to reveal what Castiel had been tending to so secretly.

He entered the cabin and placed his empty watering can on the table. “Dean!”

His husband emerged from the bedroom. “Mhm?”

“Wanna see?”

Dean didn’t need more of a prompt than that. He understood, like always. A smile reached his face easily. “Of course.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

Cas opened the back door, Dean following him eagerly. They paced forwards, Dean observing the patch of flowers coming into view.

Once they reached the flowers, Dean’s smile formed into a giant grin. “Forget-me-nots.” He intertwined their hands together. “You remembered.”

Castiel stared at Dean pointedly.

Dean laughed at the unspoken joke. Cas was sucker punched in the gut by the sound of such a laugh. It was a special laugh, a softer laugh, the mirth contained within it overflowing the metaphorical sink. 

Why hadn’t Dean laughed like that before?

Dean seemed to be thinking the same thing. After he realized what he was doing, his closed his mouth in confusion. His eyebrows furrowed, Cas understanding the question Dean was asking himself.

Castiel silenced Dean’s thought process with a spur-of-the-moment kiss.

Dean reciprocated instantly, holding onto Cas tightly to keep their lips together. Dean palmed the back of Cas’s head, tying their tongues together in a game of tug and war. Dean groaned when Cas pulled away, dragging Dean’s bottom lip with him.

They were in the freaking backyard, for God’s sake. 

This thought had Castiel returning to rationality again.

Dean’s eyes, when they opened, were playful. His voice was rough as he teased, “does that laugh turn you on, darlin’?”

Dean’s body suddenly melted into Cas’s, and Cas couldn’t think much about the flowers, anymore. Dean wanted him desperately, and Cas couldn’t resist his husband’s charms often. 

Castiel circled his arms around Dean’s middle. “It did. What are you gonna do about it?”

Dean’s smirk was all Cas needed to know.

————

“Five hours,” Dean mused, smiling softly at Cas lying by his side in bed. “We hadn’t had sex in a mere five hours, and now this.” Dean leaned closer and whispered, “you think I’m too obsessed with you. Well, you’re a hypocrite.”

Cas laughed unashamedly, his head thrown back against the pillow, his grin bright, his skin ethereal in the projected sunlight coming through the bedroom window.

Beautiful.

Cas finally looked at Dean with startlingly intense blue eyes. Dean’s thoughts quieted. Everything Cas said deserved his utmost attention.

The former seraphim didn’t disappoint. “I’m going to do everything it takes to hear that laugh again. Do you hear me, Dean Winchester?”

Dean hadn’t known a single laugh could have such a profound effect on his husband. Dean drew Cas closer in his arms and murmured, “I liked your flowers.”

Cas chuckled into Dean’s collarbone, the laughs vibrating against Dean’s skin. 

They tickled.

Dean tightened his grip around Cas, his hands traveling to the base of Cas’s spine. Cas shivered in response. Dean knew Cas was holding back the urge to bat his hand away.

Dean said absentmindedly, “the color of those forget-me-nots reminded me of your eyes when you first wake up in the morning.” Cas left the burrow he’d made in Dean’s shoulder and eyed Dean warily. Dean continued whimsically, “gray, then a soft blue, then a forget-me-not baby blue, then a lake blue. That last one being your natural eye color. And sometimes,” Dean traced Enochian symbols using Cas’s back as a canvas, “they turn an ocean blue, then a sapphire blue. Those being the shades that reflect your happiness. Like now, for example.” Dean glanced into Cas’s eyes, and identified, “sapphire blue.” A side of his mouth quirked upwards. “My favorite. I only see those when you’re particularly,” Dean bit his lip, “horny.”

Cas pulled away from Dean so abruptly that Dean giggled like a teenage girl. Cas’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I thought you were going to say something really sweet, but I should have known. You fucking assbutt.”

Dean’s laugh matched the mirth he displayed out in Cas’s garden earlier. 

Cas’s anger faltered.

“I’m,” Dean inhaled, “a fucking,” he laughed on his exhale, “assbutt?” He couldn’t stop laughing suddenly. He tried to muffle them in the pillow, but they were released in loud peals. Dean laughed freely until he was red-faced.

Cas’s answering frown was so fabricated that Dean had to take a moment to contain himself.

When Dean had regained his faculties, he said, “‘M sorry, darlin’.”

“You’re gonna use your newfound laugh as leverage from now on, I can tell. Goddammit.”

Dean chuckled. “You’re swearing a lot today.”

As if to make a point, Cas rattled off, “Shit. Fuck. Dick. Asshole. Douchebag.” He rolled out of bed. “Now I’m gonna find Soda.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Did I not wear you out adequately?”

Cas materialized on jeans, a tee, and a gray peacoat. He ran a hand through his hair and said, “oh, you did. But Soda’s been wandering in the woods for the past two hours. We should be good dog owners and find him.”

Dean huffed and rolled out of bed too. “I suppose you’re right.” He materialized on jeans, a flannel, and a jacket. “May I kiss that motor mouth of yours before we go?”

Cas crossed his arms. “No.”

“I love you so much, darlin’. So fucking much.”

Cas uncrossed his arms. “Quickly.”

Dean went to Cas’s side of the room and pecked his lips. “Let’s go.”

————

Dean and Castiel brought Soda to visit Mary’s Heaven.

Mary’s invitation was cryptic, but Dean could easily guess what this was about.

The couple and Soda sat across from Mary in her living room, Soda finding a good spot and lolling his tongue out happily.

Mary said, “I finished the books.”

“And you have questions,” Dean said. “Who wouldn’t?” He materialized a mug filled with coffee and took a bitter sip. “I’m gonna need this.”

Castiel materialized a cup of tea in contrast, resting his thigh against Dean’s as a show of support. Dean sent him a burst of affection as a thank you through their bond.

“I really only have one question,” Mary said, “but I’m assuming it’ll lead to follow-up questions.”

“Our nonexistent schedule is cleared,” Cas quipped. “We’ll probably be here a while.”

“I should get everyone else here,” Mary said. “I expect you won’t want to tell this twice.”

“First, what’s the question?” Dean asked.

Mary replied, “what happened after the books finished?”

“Fine,” Dean acquiesced. “Let’s make this a family affair.”

————

John knew he wasn’t welcome here.

He kept his head down, trying not to think about his wife’s Heaven being their former home.

He said hello to his old friend Ellen. He was then introduced to two women. Jody and Donna. The way they held themselves confidently and took no bullshit made John respect them instantly. The fact that they were former sheriffs of their own police precincts and monster hunters further bolstered John’s positive opinion.

John took a seat in the background, trying to remain as silent and inconspicuous as possible.

————

Dean recapped the Winchester Gospels as quickly as he could, since he didn’t let just anyone read them.

It was the story of his life, specifically five years of it. He didn’t want everyone to know everything. He had given them to his mother because she truly wanted to learn about him.

Dean didn’t know what Mary must think of him now, but she hadn’t commented on that yet. She still looked at him the same she always did. To Dean, that was a good sign.

————

Dean got to Mary’s question a half hour later. His audience had been listening intently the entire time he reviewed the books written about him and Sam.

Dean then said, “you’re probably going to hate us when you find out what happens next.”

They still wanted to know.

Dean told them a shortened version of what happened after Sam escaped Lucifer’s cage in Hell. He worked his way forward without a single interruption. He tried to add humor where he could, because a lot of the Big Bads he had faced were hilarious when he thought about them. Cas also explained his sides of the story in certain areas to help formulate the whole picture. Whenever Cas wasn’t speaking, he was petting Soda or sending encouragement through the bond. Dean also added occasional tidbits about his marriage to Cas. He could tell his audience enjoyed those parts the most.

When Dean got to saving Cas from Asmodeus, he started going into less detail. He admitted that, after his husband nearly died due to his negligence, he felt less inclined to hunt so often. He let Cas take over, and fight wars without him. He focused more on his family and less on monsters. He didn’t regret his decision one bit.

Dean finished his story by describing the war to end all monsters. He mentioned that the rest of his life with Cas was happy and peaceful.

————

“Are you sure about this?”

Dean looked at the nursery doors to Heaven’s hospital, where angel children were raised and taught the ways of Heaven and Earth.

Despite the children Cas raised being fully grown, Balthazar and Jack were always looking for more hands to care for the children. They were the future, after all. 

Dean replied to Cas, “I’m sure.”

Cas pushed open the nursery door, Dean being assaulted with the soft aura and scent of freshly washed babies in their cribs.

Dean walked quietly between the parallel rows of cribs, six on each side. Dean whispered to Cas behind him, “they aren’t a dozen eggs.”

Cas chuckled. “I said the same thing.”

Dean stopped at a crib. A little girl was sleeping fitfully, ready to make a fuss. Dean asked Cas’s permission silently. Cas nodded in assent. Dean observed the girl moving about, as if having a nightmare.

Angels couldn’t have nightmares at this age. Could they?

Dean took the baby in his arms slowly and carefully, not breathing until she was in a secure — and correct — hold. Dean felt the baby’s expression smooth out as he lifted up her blonde head and pressed her against his chest.

She was so beautiful, so innocent, so precious. Dean couldn’t prevent a big smile from dominating his features.

He rocked her a little in his arms, going achingly slow so as to not wake her. He made a quiet shushing sound to soothe her, which seemed to work wonders. The girl stopped fussing, falling into a sweet dreamland.

Dean hoped there were unicorns and rainbows waiting for her.

Not wanting to let the child go just yet, Dean looked up at Cas.

And found him completely awestruck.

Dean wasn’t used to seeing such an expression on his husband’s face. Cas was usually the one that hid his emotions, that remained regal and unreadable unless he wanted Dean to see. 

But this...Dean had never seen this exact expression before. He couldn’t put a finger on the words to describe it.

Dean had always had a fondness for children. Since his childhood was...well, not really a childhood at all, he wanted kids to have the opportunities he didn’t. A happy life. Good memories. A chance to be a carefree child.

He had not truly yearned for children until he was married to Cas. That was when Dean wanted the monsters to stop appearing so he could settle down. It was a ridiculous thing to wish for, he knew that. 

When he discovered that Cas cared for angel children in Heaven, Dean thought it best to bury the feelings that came with such a proclamation to the back of his mind, never to be revisited again.

By the time the monsters were gone and the couple could finally settle down, they were too old for children. The missed opportunity clawed at Dean’s insides for the rest of his life. 

Until Dean saw the angel children in this nursery. Until Dean held this little blonde girl in his arms and rocked her to sleep.

Where Dean once felt pain, he only felt contentment. He could help raise these babies, and all the angels to come. He could finally be a proper father, rather than raising Jack and Claire when they were already half-grown.

Cas had given Dean an incredible gift, the best gift anyone could give to their spouse. He had given Dean the one thing he had wanted, but could never have.

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. Cas’s eyes sparkled and his mouth quirked upwards kindly. 

As always, they were on the same page, mulling on the same thought process.

Dean glanced down at the little girl in his arms, peacefully asleep, and placed her back in the crib delicately. She did not wake, or display any indication she had been moved in the first place. Dean placed a soft pink blanket over her onesie and tucked her in gently. He watched the girl take steady breaths for a few beats, then looked back at his husband.

Cas captured Dean in a close embrace. Cas murmured in Dean’s ear, “you were made for this. Do you like my gift?”

Dean nodded in answer, resting their foreheads together. He sent a mental message through the bond to Cas: “I love you.”

Cas sent back: “I love you too.”

————

“Ready?”

Castiel sat in the passenger’s seat of the Impala, looking at the oval-shaped racing track ahead of them. “I’m ready to be wowed.”

A half-smirk reached Dean’s face at the challenge. He rested his foot on the gas pedal, the engine purring. 

His husband’s recent obsession with race car driving was something Castiel should have seen coming. It was an activity Dean tried as soon as he got settled in Heaven. Dean took to it, but hadn’t had time to practice the track until recently. 

With a final glance at an unimpressed Cas, Dean grinned lopsidedly. Cas felt the adrenaline rushing through Dean’s veins on his end of the bond.

Dean pressed the gas pedal, and they shot off like a rocket.

Instead of screaming, Castiel grinned at the wind whipping at him. 

He was used to such speeds. He used to fly with his wings, after all.

This strangely reminded Cas of times when he would fly across the world because Dean pissed him off and he needed to cool down someplace thousands of miles away. At minimum.

When their friendship was still rocky, before it had a steady foundation, Dean knew just how to push Cas’s buttons. This had gotten Castiel to admit a lot about himself and realize the cause he fought for was corrupt.

But Cas would leave these conversations abruptly, not wanting to say anything he would regret. They made him uncomfortable and unsure about himself at the time.

Castiel would sit on the edge of cliffs and at the tops of mountains and float atop crackling icebergs and explore exotic islands where no human dared to venture. He would go anywhere and everywhere he could be alone for a few hours. He would vent out his anger and stalk around uninhabitable areas until his temper subsided. 

Cas’s thoughts would be plagued with Dean, Dean, Dean while he did this. Stupid Dean. Infuriating Dean.

Beautiful Dean.

Did he know how attractive he was? Fuck.

Castiel wouldn’t trust himself to visit Dean again until those thoughts and emotions were locked up tighter than a convicted murderer in a maximum security prison.

But that was then. It was best not to think on it anymore.

Cas let his husband whip them around the track for who knows how long, feeling the sensations driving this fast brought him.

He could fly faster, but this was nice.

And it made the grin affixed on Dean’s face permanent, so Castiel couldn’t complain.

————

Dean watched from the bathroom doorway as Cas got ready.

Cas’s suit was a standard black-and-white tuxedo. It usually made people look like penguins, in Dean’s opinion, him included. But Cas was always an exception to every rule. 

The tuxedo made his husband look elegant, ravishing, divine. All Dean knew was that he never wanted to see anyone in a tux again. Only Cas. 

Only ever Cas.

A song Dean found while perusing Heaven’s music library trickled into his consciousness.

...Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel, love your imperfections, every angle. Tomorrow comes and goes before you know, so I just had to let you know. The way that Gucci look on you, amazing. But nothing can compare to when you’re naked...

Dean left the doorway, having been fully dressed for a few moments now, and approached Cas. His husband was so focused on tying his bowtie — his eyes squinted adorably in concentration — that Cas didn’t notice Dean until he locked his arms around Cas’s waist from behind. Cas looked at Dean through the mirror.

They only reason they were dressing up was to go on a date. It was a formality, an excuse for Cas to look good for Dean, and for Dean to look good for Cas. Dean didn’t mind dressing up, but he wanted to forego all this extravagance.

Dean’s hands hovered over Cas’s dress shirt hem. He rested his chin on Cas’s shoulder, Cas finally completing his bowtie knot. Dean stared at Cas through the mirror and murmured, “we don’t have to do this.”

Cas understood Dean’s double meaning, which was: “I want you right now. We don’t have to go out.”

...Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel, love your imperfections, every angle…

The song in Dean’s head repeated and skipped lyrics aptly.

...But nothing can compare to when you’re naked…

Cas turned around in Dean’s hold. Dean adjusted accordingly, his hands resting on the small of Cas’s back and his eyes raking over Cas’s searing expression.

Oh, his husband was absolutely fiery tonight. He was the match, the flames, and the smoke. Dean could die right now, if he weren’t already dead.

Cas said non-negotiably, “we’re going to the date spot we spent so much time fixing up and hiding from everyone, and we’re going to enjoy it. Then, and only then,” Cas switched to Enochian, “I’ll allow you to take my clothes off and have your way with me.” He switched back to English. “Understand?”

His eyes desirous, Dean nodded slowly. “I look forward to it, darlin’.”

————

“You brought back your tattoos,” Dean realized, observing the tattoos on the insides of Cas’s wrists. Cas allowed Dean to rest on top of him as he did so.

They were so used to being naked around each other that it didn’t matter anymore.

And Cas was acting particularly generous and docile after the number Dean just did on him.

Dean exposed Cas’s wrist, pinning them against the pillow on Cas’s sides. On the right wrist was a pair of angel wings to signify the life Cas was born into. Dean kissed the inked wings, eliciting a thrill through Cas’s veins at the intimate gesture. Dean moved to the left wrist, the hand also adorned with Cas’s silver wedding band. Dean intertwined their fingers together, watching Cas’s cool metal ring shine. Dean examined the tattoo of his name written in Cas’s cursive handwriting, signifying the life Cas chose.

He swiped his thumb over his name and murmured, “I’m gonna steal your romantic idea.”

“How so?”

Dean eased his weight off of Cas, turned to his opposite side, and chastised, “no peeking.”

With his back to Cas, Dean observed his bare wrists and went into editing mode.

In Heaven, people can edit and fix and change anything, even their appearance. Dean and Cas hadn’t done so, but Dean figured he could edit some tattoos on his skin with the technology Heaven provided to residents.

On the inside of his right wrist, Dean recalled the tattoo he had on his collarbone from his memory. He honed in on the picture and made it reappear on his chest.

His anti-possession tattoo. A pentagram encased in a circle of fire. He copy-pasted it to his wrist, making it half the size of his original tattoo.

Once he was satisfied, he directed his attention to the left wrist, adorned with his gold wedding band. He materialized an ink pen and wrote “Cas” in his messy scrawl. He cast away the pen and gave his tattoos a final once-over.

Then, Dean laid on his back, his side pressing against Cas’s. “Take a look.”

Cas grasped Dean’s right arm first, chuckling at the anti-possession tattoo on his wrist. He pressed a kiss to the ink, like Dean did to him. Dean’s hand dropped to Cas’s stomach, his fingers tracing Cas’s defined abdomen. Cas allowed the touches without complaint, then grasped Dean’s left arm lightly. Cas swallowed thickly at his name on the inside of Dean’s wrist, running his thumb over the ink, tracing each letter slowly. Cas murmured, “I love it.”

“Of course you would.”

Cas let Dean’s hands drape across his stomach. Sensing Dean’s tiredness, Cas projected the night sky on their bedroom ceiling. Dean smiled at the gesture and turned to his side, curling against Cas. 

Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’s cheek and nestled himself in the crook of Cas’s neck. “Good night, darlin’.”

Cas threw an arm behind Dean’s head to act as a pillow. “Good night, beautiful.”

————

Dean sat in a camping chair on the docks, grasping a fishing pole. The line and bait was in the water, forming ripples on the lake surface.

Dean always thought fishing was a nice and peaceful activity. He observed the lake and nature surrounding him, as well as the simulated sun rising into a projected dawn.

He wasn’t in the habit of waking up so early, but Dean wanted to try everything and anything.

He hadn’t fished in forever. And especially not in an astral plane where he knew any fish he caught weren’t real.

Dean felt a tug on his line. He felt a burst of excitement and reeled the rod out of the water.

A trout. A big one. Good for two.

Perfect.

Dean let the fish flop in the air, and touched the slippery scales with his bare hands. Another few beats, and the trout went still as Dean unhooked it. Dean placed it in a cooler beside him and put new bait on his fishing hook. He tossed the line back in the water and settled in his chair.

He didn’t know how much more time passed, but he heard two sets of footsteps on the docks behind him. Dean tilted his head to the side.

His parents were here.

Dean squinted as Mary entered his view. He hid his shock at his mother and father’s presence together — without anyone else as a buffer. “Hi, Mom.”

Mary ruffled his hair, as if Dean was a little boy. “Hi, Dean. Where’s Cas?”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Dean reeled in his empty fishing line and set the pole aside, “I’m not one hundred percent attached to Cas.” Dean noted the easy way his voice curled around his husband’s name affectionately. He fought the urge to check his father’s reaction to that. “We’re only ninety-five percent attached at the hip,” Dean stated, standing up from his camping chair. “He’s walking Soda,” he motioned to the trees off to his left, “over there.” Dean addressed John with a “hey” and asked his mother, “are you two gonna make a habit of visiting me at dawn?” Dean picked up his cooler containing a trout. “Because I don’t normally do this.”

John said, “I just wanted to see how you were.” He motioned to the cooler. “Is there a fish in there?”

“Yes. A trout.” Dean started to walk down the dock. “You can come inside, I guess.”

Dean sent a mental message to Cas: “My parents are here. Give us a few minutes.”

Dean sensed Cas’s alarm and concern for him through the bond. He sent an “it’s okay” to stave off Cas’s worries.

Dean opened the back door to the cabin, his parents stepping inside. He busied himself with storing his fresh trout in the freezer and — after washing his hands — brewing tea for his mother.

He caught John staring at his wall of Polaroids and nearly had a heart attack. 

Mary approached the kitchen counter and whispered, “you okay?”

Dean nodded and masked his alarm.

John was looking at Dean’s very heart and soul. John was staring at physical proof of how much Dean loves his husband.

John always told him to guard his heart, to not get too close to people. That mindset had damaged Dean for decades. But, as Dean always reminded himself, Cas was the exception to every rule.

Dean wasn’t sure how to feel about this. He caught John looking at one Polaroid in particular. The same photograph that had grabbed Mary’s attention the first time she visited the cabin. It was of Cas’s face, his eyes looking a tad upwards from the camera lens.

Staring into Dean’s eyes like he was Cas’s sun and moon and stars and entire world.

It wasn’t often that Cas bared his feelings so openly for all to see. That picture was one in a billion.

Dean slid his gaze away from John and realized that the water was boiled. Mary went to his side with a mug and bag of tea. She said, “thank you, Dean. Are those tattoos?”

Dean poured the water into Mary’s cup and cleared his throat. “Yes.” He showed his wrists to Mary. “I wanted to match Cas’s.” 

“How cute,” Mary commented.

Dean swallowed and tried not to blush. He kept his tone loud enough for both of his parents to hear. “What have you been up to, Mom?” He put down the pot of water and turned off the heater. 

Mary said through her steaming cup, “I found something that may of interest to you.”

“Oh?” Dean noticed that John was at a standstill near the aforementioned Polaroid, but he chose not to comment on it.

“Cas,” John perked up from the corner of Dean’s eye at the name spoken by Mary so fondly, “mentioned to me once that you have an obsession with westerns.”

Dean’s eyes widened, a grin reaching his face in anticipation. “Uh huh.”

“Well, not only can the movie cube allow you to go inside westerns,” Mary set up, “but there’s also a whole cube that looks like the Wild West.”

Dean gasped. “Seriously?!”

John finally broke out of whatever trance he was in by the Polaroid wall. He raised an eyebrow at Dean’s sudden excitement in the kitchen.

Cas took it upon himself to enter the cabin with Soda.

Dean was partially glad of it. He felt like a bomb would go off when John decided to speak.

Cas immediately smiled and went to hug Mary. “How are you, Mary?”

“I’m good, Cas.” Mary pulled away from Cas. She looked down at the Labrador retriever panting near her and pet his head. “Hi, Soda.” Soda wagged his tail in greeting.

Dean momentarily forgot about John across the room and fake scowled at Cas. He put a hand on his hip for good measure. “Why didn’t you tell me there was an old west cube?”

“Well,” Cas said casually, opening the freezer, “I figured I’d save that knowledge for later.” He said, “nice trout.”

“Thank you.” Cas closed the freezer, Soda leaving the kitchen and marching about the living room. Dean said, “well, guess what we’re doing today.”

“Getting small pies from Donna?” Cas teased, materializing a mug and tea bag. He poured some water — which was still hot — into the mug and clicked the ceramic cup against Mary’s. Cas and Mary shared a smile, then took synchronized sips.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “How dare you make me choose.”

Cas chuckled delightedly, the melodic sound causing John’s eyes to widen. Soda sniffed John quickly, but let him be.

Dean was freaked out his father wasn’t speaking. But whatever.

Cas set his mug on the kitchen counter. “We’ll do both.”

“Yay!”

Cas snorted and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.” He went into the bedroom and shut the door, perhaps to change clothes.

Dean decided to ask, “what have you been up to, John?”

John blinked upon finally being addressed. “Not much. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” Dean said blankly.

“I wanted to say, um,” John swallowed, “I’m proud of you. You’ve done well for yourself.”

Was this acceptance?

Dean kept his expression and tone neutral. “Thank you.”

Mary patted Dean’s shoulder and looked between father and son. She went to John. “I think we’ll get out of your hair now.”

Dean nodded. “I have to ask. Um. Are you two getting along, or something?”

“I suppose,” Mary said noncommittally. “Though I don’t think,” she looked at John, “we’ll get back together.” 

John actually nodded in agreement, Dean concealing his surprise.

He didn’t want his parents getting back together, anyway. But if it was what Mary wanted, Dean wouldn’t have complained. Dean didn’t know how they worked as a couple in the first place. And he didn’t know how they would now. Perhaps this was for the best.

“Okay,” Dean said. “Well, I’ll see you soon.”

John and Mary left, then Cas emerged from the bedroom. “How’d it go?”

Dean snorted and shut the front door. “As if you weren’t listening.”

Cas huffed, his mouth wilting into a frown. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“I didn’t expect they’d get back together anyway, even if we are in Heaven.”

Cas hummed in admittance. “I didn’t either. Are you alright with that?”

“Yeah. Like I said. I doubted this would happen any other way.”

Cas approached Dean and looped his arms around Dean’s neck. “I know what will cheer you up.”

Dean bit his lip. “Do you now?”

“Not that. The western cube.”

“Ah, yes. Want some breakfast first? I’ll make it.”

Cas oohed dramatically. “If you’re making breakfast,” he batted his eyelashes innocently, “I would love some pancakes.”

Dean chuckled at the role reversal. It was usually Cas that did the cooking and baking; he was well-versed at it, after all. “Of course you would.” Dean pecked Cas’s lips and withdrew from their embrace. “I’ll make you the fluffiest pancakes you’ve ever eaten.”

“I look forward to it.”

————

Dean’s grin was fixed on his face the entire day he spent in the western cube.

————

“I’m curious about something.”

Dean brushed his lips against Cas’s, his head still in the clouds from making love after a day swimming in the lake. Cas looked so sun-kissed and beautiful in low-hanging swim trunks that Dean couldn’t help but initiate a heated make out session once they were dried from the water.

And, of course, one thing lead to another.

“Mhm?” Dean prompted, his hand finding its way into Cas’s glorious sex hair. He allowed Cas to lay on top of him, supporting his weight easily.

Cas rested their foreheads together, practically speaking into Dean’s slightly parted lips with how close they were. “When I told you to latch onto a memory when you were Persephone,” Cas breathed, “which did you choose?”

Dean’s gaze flicked from Cas’s lips to his eyes. He teased, “you think the memory had nothing to do with you. That it? Well,” Dean’s opposite hand drummed a beat on Cas’s back, “you’re wrong.”

Sapphire rings pierced into Dean’s very soul. “I was just checking.”

Dean moved upwards, pressing their lips together lightly. “Ninety percent of my best memories contain you.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“Sam, of course. He was a riot as a kid. The bravest little shit in the Midwest.”

Cas hummed, smiling at the fondness Dean always had for his younger brother. “I’ll allow that.”

“This memory I latched on to,” Dean expounded, “was one afternoon we were alone in the bunker, and we walked around the woods. Ordinary, except for when snow started to fall…”

Dean didn’t need to finish the memory. Cas’s blush meant that he remembered.

God, Dean really can’t keep his hands off his husband to save his life.

“That’s a nice memory,” Cas murmured. “Mine is similar to what we did today.”

“Swimming in the lake?”

Cas hummed in affirmation. “Only the full moon was out, and it was our first night at our new house…”

Cas didn’t need to finish his memory, either. Dean remembered it well. They had like minds, Dean supposed.

Dean recalled, “you did look enchanting in the moonlight.” He pressed their lips together again, since Cas’s mouth was draped centimeters above his, so plush and inviting. “Though I think you were the sun today, darlin’.”

Cas’s gaze turned bashful, their eyelashes almost brushing together. They fanned Cas’s cheeks, Dean’s breath hitching.

...Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel…

Dean pushed the song out of his mind.

“Was I?” Cas asked hesitantly, sounding too insecure for Dean’s liking.

“I wish there was a way I could show you,” Dean said softly, “how captivating you are to me.”

Cas’s ocean eyes met Dean’s. “Focus on an image, tap into our bond, and send it out to me like it’s a message.”

Dean’s eyes widened. His husband was an absolute genius. “Think it’ll work?”

“Try it.”

Dean smiled wanly, closed his eyes, and concentrated. He focused on an image of Cas sitting on the edge of the dock in swim trunks. No wrinkles were present on his face as he looked down at Dean in the water. A halo of sunlight appeared behind Cas’s head, giving his tan skin an ethereal tint. Cas’s eyes matched the lakewater, and were filled with fondness for Dean.

He felt the bond between him and Cas thrumming beneath his skin. He sent the image.

Dean opened his eyes, and Cas’s gaze went off to his left.

Cas could see it. Dean knew by the way his face changed, imperceptible to anyone who didn’t pay attention to every single iota of Castiel Winchester’s being. 

Cas blinked, and met Dean’s eyes again. “I suppose I really was the sun.”

Dean leaned upward, capturing Cas’s lips in his own.

————

“We can just watch television in our cabin, you know,” Castiel said critically.

That didn’t deter Dean, who played a movie in one of the many plush rooms that composed their yacht. It was rather small for a yacht, but it still had two floors and an above deck. It currently rested on their lake, automatically drifting in a zigzag pattern across the body of water.

“This boat is so pretty, Cas,” Dean said in his defense. “I can’t give my lovely husband nice things?”

Dean had created this yacht by himself. It truly was a work of art, something only the wealthiest of businessmen would consider sailing on.

Castiel said, “you know I don’t care about that. That being said,” he admitted, “I do like this boat.”

Dean smirked. “Thought so.”

————

Castiel was drifting off to sleep that night on the aforementioned yacht when he heard it.

“I really hope you’re asleep,” Dean murmured.

Cas knew this was when Dean normally talked to himself. It doesn’t happen often; Dean wisely didn’t make a habit of it. Dean only did this when he had something to reveal, something he was embarrassed to tell Cas about.

Castiel listened, feigning sleep, relaxing his posture while remaining alert.

Dean took Cas’s silence as permission. “This is kinda weird, but I need to say it aloud. You’d snort or slap me if you heard this, it’s so ridiculous. Or you’d both snort and then slap me. Whichever. But, um. Okay.” Dean took a breath. “This bed was specifically created to live out my ultimate sexual fantasy.” It took all of Cas’s energy not to snort. “It started with that goddamn red rug, when we celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary at that cabin. Ever since then,” Castiel fought back a shiver at the memory of making love on that rug by a crackling fireplace, “I’ve been obsessed with seeing you in red.” Dean ran his hand down the silk bedsheets. “Red sheets. Red pillowcases. The fireplace across the room. You underneath me, glowing from the fire, looking at me and keening.” Dean emitted a little chuckle. “But that’s not all. I had an amazing sex dream once,” Dean shifted to the side, facing Cas’s back, “when you were away and left me lonely in our bed,” Cas pushed down a pang of guilt, “of you encased in animal furs.” Castiel imagined Dean’s bashful smile. “It’s silly, I know. But that’s why there are furs on our bed. And I assure you,” Dean said breathily, “you looked twice as sexy as I imagined you would. I mean,” Dean exhaled, “my fucking God. Even now. You look delectable even now. But I have to control myself. You look lovely when you sleep, and I wouldn’t want to disturb you.” Dean cleared his throat. “Okay. You, Castiel Winchester, made me feel like the hottest man ever to live tonight. Good night, darlin’.” Dean shifted again, the sheets moving with him as he settled off to sleep.

Castiel, his heart pounding, decided not to reveal he was listening this time.

————

Castiel made sure to wear as much red clothing as possible without revealing his secret.

Dean didn’t suspect a thing, too busy staring at him carnally, as if forcing himself not to reach for Cas and devour him.

Castiel feigned obliviousness, smirking inwardly at the game only he was playing.

————

John summoned Dean to visit him in the small home Balthazar arranged for him.

Dean nervously knocked on the door, which was answered by John seconds later. John filled the doorway and said, “come in.”

Dean did so, both of them settling in the living room.

Once sat, John said, “there are things that I need to get off my chest.”

Dean immediate reaction was to leave this house right now. But he stayed rooted to his seat. 

With no protest from Dean, John continued, “I’m sorry for...reacting the way I did when I first arrived here.”

This was big of John to say. John was never one for apologies.

Dean said, “to you, the world was still intolerant, and you were raised that way. It makes sense.”

John took this as begrudging acceptance. “I’m also sorry for taking so long to come around.”

“Are you saying,” Dean raised an eyebrow, “that you have?”

John launched into an explanation. “After hearing and seeing...well, everything...I’ve realized that...in the long run, who you love doesn’t matter. I want you to be happy. I truly do accept you, Dean. You and Sam both.”

The words Dean had been waiting to hear all his life were finally said aloud.

Vindication.

Dean let his walls down, and truly smiled at his father. He was so sick and tired of having to tiptoe around John. There was no need for that now, at long last. “Well, how ‘bout that,” Dean uttered, walking on air. John was amazed by the transformation. “I really appreciate that,” Dean said genuinely. “Sam’ll shit a brick when he gets here.”

At the mention of Sam, John asked, “he married an angel too, right?”

“An archangel. Gabriel.”

“That’s impressive.”

Dean felt all of a sudden that he could speak freely to John. His acceptance had lifted the weight from Dean’s shoulders. “Gabriel’s not at all what you expect. Not at all like Cas. You wouldn’t think they were related.”

“How are they not alike?”

“Well, Gabriel’s short, for one. He gets so angry when you point it out, too.” Dean chuckled, imagining his brother’s husband steaming with rage at short jokes. “But he packs a punch for such a small guy. Before there were no monsters, he was one of the strongest beings on Earth. He was good at making people underestimate him, since he was constantly joking around. That was his gimmick, and it worked like a charm every time. They didn’t expect a little guy like him to throw knives so well.”

“Knives?!”

Dean chuckled at John’s reaction. “He was a better sword-fighter than gunfighter. It became a running joke on how well he can throw knives, and how he chose to throw knives when he had a whole range of powers at his disposal.”

A beat. “I suppose there are worse things than my son marrying a knife-throwing archangel.”

“That there is,” Dean agreed. “And Gabriel’s a sweetheart. Honestly.”

“When do you think they’ll be here?”

“There’s no way to tell,” Dean replied. “You gotta be patient around here.”

————

Dean returned home to the cabin, Cas coming back from a visit with Balthazar and Jack at the same time.

“How were they?” Dean asked, summoning a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Good. Everything has been cleaned up and taken care of. No more monsters should get in here.”

“That’s good. I’m not eager to repeat any of that,” Dean said, keeping his expression neutral.

Cas broke right through it. “What happened with John?” He squinted his eyes. “I can’t get an exact read on you, and it’s freaking me out.”

Dean drank some water, set down the glass with a clink, and held out his hands. Cas outstretched his arms and met Dean’s in the middle of the counter. 

When their hands were intertwined, Dean said, “my father told me that he accepted me.”

A grin reached Cas’s face. “This is fantastic news!” He squeezed Dean’s hands. “Why aren’t you jumping up and down right now?”

“I, um,” Dean paused, “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet.”

Cas sighed, withdrawing his hands from Dean’s. He rounded the counter and pressed Dean’s back against it. Dean tilted his head down, Cas’s head upwards, their gazes engaged in a firefight.

“Dean,” Cas said gruffly, Dean’s stomach doing a somersault at how gorgeous Cas’s voice made his name sound, “I know how important this is to you. You might think this doesn’t mean anything anymore, that it doesn’t matter, but it does.” Cas lifted his hand to cup Dean’s cheek. “It does,” he emphasized. “And you may not have needed Daddy’s approval to kiss me and fuck me and love me and marry me,” Dean blushed at Cas’s coarse language, “but you needed him to understand that this is who you are, and you won’t apologize for it. Am I right?” 

Dean nodded, focusing his gaze on the tattoo of his name on Cas’s wrist.

“Right,” Cas confirmed, soldiering on even though their eyes weren’t locked together anymore. “So let John’s acceptance truly sink in.” He repeated with force, “let it. It’s not going to disappear. It’s there forever.”

How did Cas always know what Dean needed to hear?

Dean exhaled deeply and sniffled. “Okay.” Dean brought up his hand to meet Cas’s on his cheek. “Okay.”

————

Balthazar was checking to make sure John wasn’t doing anything suspicious when it happened.

He was surveying John’s house from afar, but John noticed him and invited him inside.

Balthazar warily stepped through the threshold, incredibly distrustful at what John seeked to accomplish by doing this.

John didn’t let his mind wander for long. He said, “I’ve wanted to apologize to you for a while now. I’m sorry for calling you a pansy. That was short-sighted and unfair of me to judge.”

Balthazar’s eyebrows raised comically. Out of all the things he expected, this was not one of them. He knew John was more open to various viewpoints, but he had not expected an outright apology.

Balthazar said softly, “thank you.” He shrugged, downplaying it. “It’s nowhere near the worst thing I’ve been called, anyway.”

“I still shouldn’t have said it.”

Balthazar inclined his head. “Apology accepted.”

After a beat, John said, “so you’re my in-law, huh? Got anyone special I should know about that’s also a part of this family?”

Balthazar shook his head. “Never found anyone permanent. Not that I was looking for that.”

John frowned. “A shame.”

Balthazar shrugged again. “I got this leading Heaven gig taking up my time, anyway.”

Sensing the topic was uncomfortable for Balthazar, John decided to turn him loose.

————

Dean and Castiel heard loud knocking on their cabin door. Soda barked in answer, dashing to the door and scratching at it.

Cas opened the door to see Balthazar on the other side of it. He glanced at Dean behind him and Soda sniffing Balthazar curiously. Balthazar ran a hand over Soda’s fur as a greeting.

Balthazar said, “Jo’s here.”

————

Jo’s Heaven was a bar, but it wasn’t the Roadhouse. It was a very modern setting, brighter and friendlier than most bars. Dean and Castiel deduced this was the bar Jo tended to in the last decades of her life, with the long-dead Ellen and Donna helping her.

Now Jo was gone too. 

“Has Ellen seen her?” Dean murmured to Balthazar.

“Of course. It’s your turn now,” Balthazar replied.

They found Jo behind the bar, like how Dean and Cas found Ellen. Jo was examining the empty glasses, her back to them. Her long flowing blonde hair reached the middle of her back, her black tank top and jeans indicating that she looked young again.

As if sensing them, Jo whirled around. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Dean. Cas.”

She looked as she did when she was first resurrected by Chuck. Her big brown eyes were warm and her grin was radiant as she left the bar area. Jo leapt into Dean’s arms first, muffling, “it’s good to see you, big bro.”

“You too, little sis,” Dean replied.

Jo leapt into Cas’s arms next. “I think I missed you most of all, Cas.”

Castiel laughed and asked pointedly, “hear that, Dean? I’m still the favorite.”

Dean snorted. “Fine. Be that way, Jo.”

Jo pulled away from the hug. “You know I love you both.”

“So,” Dean said, “catch us up. What’s happening on Earth?”

Balthazar saluted Jo and took his leave. Jo, Dean, and Castiel sat in a booth. 

Jo materialized beers for them, recapping life on Earth. “Last time I saw everyone, Charlie and I weren’t feeling so well. My money’s on her showing up next.” Jo cleared her throat awkwardly. “In other news, Kevin got married and has a daughter.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Cas said happily.

This only made Dean weary and confused. “How long have we been dead, exactly?”

Jo furrowed her eyebrows. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Time is weird here,” Cas said. 

“Two years,” Jo replied to Dean.

“Huh,” Dean said. “Feels like less than a year.”

Jo pursed her lips. “Strange.”

“You get used to it,” Cas promised. 

“Well,” Jo continued, “as for the wayward sisters, they’re all doing great. Alex is in a serious relationship with a hot British guy.”

“We don’t have good experience with the British,” Dean commented, cringing at the memories it brought up. “He’s probably fine, though.”

“He is. And Patience,” Jo paused, “is engaged!”

Castiel clapped. “About time someone snatched her up.”

“More like,” Jo said, “saw past the whole kookiness of a palm reading shop and discovered that she was a treasure.”

“True,” Dean said.

“And,” Cas asked, “what about our daughter?”

Dean grew silent in anticipation.

Jo replied, “Claire and Kaia are doing wonderful. They’re a true suburban couple. Their daughter Lily is already a prodigy in school. She’s ridiculously smart.”

Dean stuck out a thumb in Cas’s direction. “Lily gets that from him.”

Castiel snorted. “Give Claire some credit.”

“She is a clever one,” Dean agreed, a hint of sadness plaguing him. He missed Claire. He missed everyone. “And Sam and Gabriel?”

Jo smiled. “Those two won’t give up. I’m surprised I died before them. They’re clinging to life like Lily clung to her stuffed bunny.”

Dean and Cas laughed at the memory of the stuffed rabbit Lily always carried with her. It reminded the couple of how they clung to each other for support and guidance.

“So,” Jo asked, “what’s Heaven like?”

**Author's Note:**

> The final two works are longer, so the next one will be out next weekend. Prepare yourselves for the dramatic return of Sabriel. Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
